


On My Mind

by MMRichter



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Established Relationship, F/F, Fluff, Horns, Relationship mentioned, Talking to a child
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-18
Updated: 2018-12-18
Packaged: 2019-09-21 20:55:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,037
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17050418
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MMRichter/pseuds/MMRichter
Summary: The Inquisitor meets a young fan of Qunari.





	On My Mind

“Thank you, Inquisitor.”

Her inventory lighter after selling more found wares to Bonny Sims, Adrestia Adaar looked over the thing she purchased: some Serault Infused glass. This would be formed into a lovely gift for Josephine. Just then, a flash of activity out of her periphery grabbed her attention. She looked over to see a little human girl, no more than 5 or 6, her sunflower-colored hair bouncing in braids as she played in the grass near the courtyard steps. There were no signs of an adult around that may be with her: no one hovering close by; no one looking around to keep an eye on her; or the like. Thus, Adrestia approached.

“Excuse me, little one, are you lost?”

The little girl turned and was struck with awe at the person who stood next to her; her eyes grew wide as she leaned back to see the full height of them and let out a soft, involuntary ‘whoooooa’.

Adaar gave her softest smile. “Hello. My name is Adrestia. What’s your name, my dear?”

“Sylvie… Are you a coo-nar-ee?” 

“I am, indeed.” 

“You’re very big.”

Adaar chuckled lightly. “I’ve been told.” But, hey, look…” The inquisitor lowered herself onto her knees to get closer to the child’s height. “I can get smaller if I want.”

The little girl was now cheerily smiling back. “I like your horns. They’re very pretty.”

“Oh, thank you very much.”

“Do you have to rub them on trees when they itch, like halla?”

Adrestia couldn’t help but laugh briefly at the question. “They only itch when it’s dry but fortunately I just have to reach up and scratch them. They’re solid too, so…” Adaar punctuated her statement by gently tapping on her horns, producing a dense sound. “I can’t really feel them. But, if we take good care of them, they can get smooth and shiny just like mine.”

Adaar noticed the little girl restlessly fidgeting with her hands and nibbling on her lower lip, still staring at the horns. The inquisitor immediately understood. “Would you like to touch them?

The child lit up with excitement and joyously nodded in agreement. Adrestia bowed her head gently to the little girl.

“Now, be careful. The ends are sharp.”

The little girl slowly laid her hands on Adaar’s horns. Small, delicate fingers and tiny warm hands were barely perceptible as they touched her head, whispers of touch. Adrestia, however, truly found this type of connection pleasant; Josephine was the only one who regularly touched her horns, the main reason she didn’t mind. She simply took it in as Sylvie ran her hands over the grooves and contours. Soon, the little girl pulled her hands back, satisfied, and Adrestia lifted her head again.

“Thank you. You’re very nice.”

“You’re very sweet too, Sylvie.”

“You’re the only one who talked to me. The others were so mean.”

“Well, I’m sorry about that. Yes, some of us are mean, just like some people are mean. And some elves are mean, and some dwarves are too. But the good part is… There are just as many that are nice, a lot are even nicer than me.”

“But why are some of you so quiet and seeeeeerious?” 

Adrestia took a deep sigh as she got her words together. “Well, Sylvie, we’re all very big, like me. So, a lot of people are scared of us, and they’re mean to us because they’re scared. Some of them even hurt us because they’re scared. So, we’re scared of them right back, and we’re mean to them too. Then, some of us forget to be nice to people who don’t want to hurt us. That’s mostly it.”

“But you’re not scary. You’re strong and pretty and nice and everything.”

Adaar couldn’t help it as a sweet bloom in her chest made her smile. “I’m glad you think so. Not many would agree. Thank you so much.”

“Sylvia! Sylvia!”

A perturbed woman with a soldier in tow came into view at the top of the steps, and, upon seeing them, came bounding down the steps. Adrestia stood up to greet her … only for the woman to fearfully scoop up Sylvie and protectively hold her to her chest.

“Got away for her, you filthy oxman!”

Adaar’s heart dropped just a bit upon hearing that. The soldier however quickly pointed out, “Madam, be calm. This is the Inquisitor, the Herald of Andraste.”

“The … Inquisitor? You’re the Herald?! But you’re a…”

Sylvie finally got loose enough to get her mother’s attention. “Mommy, mommy, you don’t need to be scared. She’s friendly.”

Adrestia turned her attention to the soldier. “Thank you, Mira. You can go back to your post.”

Adaar then adjusted her hair with her left hand, discreetly displaying the Mark on her arm. The mother immediately went pale, shaking with remorse. 

“Oh, Your Worship, I am truly sorry. I did not know. Please forgive me.”

Adrestia quickly waved the woman’s concerns away. “It’s quite alright, madam. I only ask that you kindly not use that slur here, please. Along with ‘knife-ear’ or the like.”

“Absolutely, Your Worship. Thank you so much.”

Adrestia nodded in acceptance then called to a nearby soldier. “Tanner, please take these two to the refugee quarters, would you?”

“Yes, Inquisitor.”

With that, the three headed away, with Sylvie waving goodbye over her mother’s shoulder. Adaar gave her a small wave back and a smile… Adrestia was struck by the encounter with Sylvia’s mother, an unfortunately common one for her. She always hated the name ‘oxmen’ and its venom, but it particularly stung now. Adaar touched the three new braids on her belt: her personal memorial to Meraad, Hissra, and Sataa. Though she saved her former company in time, they were still captured and killed because they were Qunari and because they were connected to her. Three more of her friends were lost.

Adrestia then ran her hands over her horns. Somehow, they’d enthralled children yet had also been caressed by a most exquisite woman. At least, they had garnered a range of admiration. Maybe, when this is over … there’ll be enough changed hearts and minds that a Vashoth like her won’t have to live with fears, others and her own.


End file.
